The Void

Within the reach and without a touch,
There is no time but time itself,
And yet how it lives and breathes and compares,
It thinks not, it does not, it wills not,
But it reaches out,

There is no noise, there is no silence,
But it reaches out,
It lives, it breathes, it thinks not,
It compares, It contracts,
It reaches out with no length,
Only to realize there is no point of origin,

Within the reach of time,
There is no equal, but time
But time itself has no end,
Because it has no life, and has no death
It dies but lives, eats but does not sleep,
But it reaches out no less,
But has no point of origin,

And no point of release....

Within in the inside,
But without a means to reach out,
It has no stretch, but counts the time anyway
Only there is no time but itself,
No life within itself, but itself,
No death without itself, but life itself,

This is the Void,
This is Life and the Death,
This is stretch, this is reach,
Only there is no reach,
And no point to reach to,

But it reaches out no less....